


Come Back To Earth

by Doexeyedxgirl



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Angst, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Supernatural - Freeform, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-01 02:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21346081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doexeyedxgirl/pseuds/Doexeyedxgirl
Summary: The unexpected murder of a well known resident shakes up the town of Riverdale and Jughead Jones has become obsessed with finding out who did it and why. It also doesn't help that he's being haunted by their ghost who keeps telling him that his time to solve the mystery is running out.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 14
Kudos: 42





	1. 20 questions

**Author's Note:**

> So, funny story about this; I actually wrote this story (well, this first chapter at least) about a year and a half ago but never intended on publishing it anywhere. Things changed though 'cause here I am now. Please note though that because of that, things are very outdated. Like for instance, I am aware that Archie's dad has passed (rip Luke Perry, he seemed like such a kind soul), but I love Fred Andrews and since I wrote this with him being alive still, well...I'ma keep him alive. I hope that's not offensive in anyway, as I don't mean to be. With that, be aware that this takes place in kind of an alternate universe. The events of season 1 occurred, except Betty isn't with Jughead and Archie isn't with Veronica, (dating wise at least). Anything after season 1 has not happened, (especially not that black mask & gargoyle king mess. I'm sorry, but...no). In my hc universe, I like to think that they spent a good chunk of like the first season just getting to know each other and being friends and such (maybe flirting and stuff like that, but no 'hey all of sudden we a thing', ya know) and like yeah I just wanna explain that to be clear before anyone is confused about where this takes place. I probably did not do a good job at explaining but I tried :p
> 
> Okie dokie, with that, let's just get to it. (long notes like these will not be a regular occurrence 'cause I'm sure no one wants that lol)

The setting was Riverdale. 

A seemingly quiet town that was slowly unraveling all its hidden secrets as each day passed and every hour ticked. Just this past year alone was chock full of scandals to last hushed conversations between townsfolk for a lifetime.

The night was like any other, and for our four main characters, it was being spent on the red leather booths of Pop’s as they embraced the familiarity and warmth of the place they’ve adopted as their own. It was their safe haven from the drama and mysteries of the town, and on a cold night like this, just mere days from Christmas, it was what they all severely needed.

“My mom’s coming into town. She wants to spend Christmas together as a ‘family’,” the red headed boy, Archie Andrews, spoke, leaning back into his seat.

He was the town’s golden boy. Good at everything, bad at nothing. Except maybe if it involved common sense or needing to be selfish. He had a good heart, a dangerous thing to have in Riverdale, but besides the occasional situations he was forced into, he was a typical all American boy. Or as much as you could be in a place like this. 

“Isn’t that like..kinda weird. You know, seeming as your folks are divorced?” Jughead Jones, a raven haired boy sitting across from him stated as he munched away at his burger.

There was no point in trying to describe the Jones boy. His most defining feature was a rather odd looking gray beanie that for someone reason always adorned his head. And he was ‘weird’. That was about it if you asked any of the town’s residents. It was your choice to believe them or not, though. 

A pretty blonde by the name of Betty Cooper sat beside him, lightly hitting his shoulder. 

At first glance, she seemed like your typical girl next door. Attractive, kind, soft spoken. If you looked into her eyes though, really looked, you could see she was hiding something drastically different to her girl next door persona. Dark, almost. Yet, she tried her best to keep it locked away, and at the end of the day she was as good and honest as any person in Riverdale could be.

In truth, a town this fucked up was undeserving of a Betty. 

“I think that’s good, Arch. I mean...at least you get to see your mom,” she said, offering him a sympathetic smile. 

Archie nodded, a small smile of gratitude breaking out before turning to look at the dark haired beauty next to him. 

Veronica Lodge. The girl was a mystery the day she rolled into Riverdale, capturing the attention of many of its residents, and as time has passed, she knew first hand what kind of secrets the town had kept hidden in its shadows. Her family being one of them.

“You okay there, Ronnie? You’ve barely touched your shake,” Archie asked, slightly concerned.

At the sound of his voice, she seemed to break out of whatever trance she was in, and shook her head. 

“My bad, I was just thinking about the amazing presents I got for each of you. You’re gonna be writing me thank you cards till next Christmas,” she stated with a smile. 

“But are you gonna finish that, or?” Jughead questioned with a raised brow, using a finger to point towards the direction of her untouched milkshake. 

Veronica rolled her eyes and pulled the glass towards her.

“You shouldn’t ask questions you know the answer to, Jones. Passing up one of Pop’s chocolate shakes would be a crime, and I’m no criminal,” she stated as she took a sip. 

“Criminal. Right. Sorry, wrong Lodge,” Jughead replied as he took a mouth full of his burger.

Veronica’s eyes widened as she nearly chocked mid sip.

“Hey, not cool man,” stated a disapproving Archie.

“Yeah Jug, what was that for?” Betty piped along, furrowing her brows at him. 

“Relax, it was a joke. Tough crowd.”

“Yeah, we’ll it’s gonna be even tougher if you don’t refrain from making ‘jokes’ about my father. I get it, okay. He’s evil incarnate. I have to live with that everyday. One of the main reasons why I like hanging out here at Pop’s is so I can forget that little detail. But, thanks to you, Donnie Darko, I understand that there’s no hope in escaping it. Good luck with your comedy act by the way. Hope Netflix is desperate enough to give you a special,” the brunette stated, her tone bitter as she slid the shake over to Jughead who sat across from her.

The air was now tense and everyone could feel it. Betty and Archie exchanged gazes before the blonde decided to try to break the tension.

“Hey, so...I was thinking maybe we can go to the drive in tonight? I think they’re playing White Christmas for the holidays,” she suggested, switching her gaze from Jughead to Veronica.

Both dark haired teens refused to look up, Jughead concentrated on his burger and Veronica staring holes at the table. 

Archie cleared his throat, giving Betty a sympathetic smile. “I think maybe we should call it a night. I gotta go home to walk Vegas. It’s cold outside & I don’t want my dad walking him in this weather.”

“Oh, okay,” Betty said, her tone showing off her disappointment. 

Taking one last look at both Veronica & Jughead, her eyes widened slightly as an idea popped into her head. 

“Actually, do you mind taking me home? I just remembered I have some homework to do.”

Jughead looked up from his plate, now only left with crumbs, and frowned. 

“We’re in winter break, Betty.”

The ponytailed girl shook her head and let out a nervous laugh. 

“Right. It’s just to get a head start on my winter reading list. Gotta have two 4 paged reports fully typed and I want to get that done as soon as possible.”

She looked directly at Archie, giving him a pleading look that she hoped only he saw.

Archie, getting the message, nodded and proceeded to slide out of the booth. “Of course. See you guys tomorrow.” 

Betty quickly followed suit, hurriedly walking out before either one could protest.

There was a moment of silence before Jughead spoke. 

“We got ditched, didn’t we?”

Veronica, not looking up, nodded. “We got ditched.” With a sigh, she straightened herself up and looked towards Jughead. “I think perhaps they believe that leaving us alone will drive us to actually having a proper, civil conversation with each other.”

Jughead rolled his eyes, grabbing a napkin from across the table. “Aren’t they adorable,” he said, his annoyance evident.

Veronica sighed. “In all honesty though, Jughead, I don’t hate you. In fact, I consider you a loyal friend. By no means do I think we’re close, but...you’re a good guy and I admire your skill at witty banter. I would like it as well if we could get to know each other a bit more. Actually become real friends? Not just...”

“Frenemies? Come on Veronica, we’re not 12,” he said with another roll of his eyes.

“Which is exactly why we need to move past just opening our mouths to insult one another. Work with me, Jug. If not for me, then do it for Archie, for Betty. You know they’ll eventually get tired of their two best friends always having it out for each other.”

There was only silence on Jughead’s end, which prompted Veronica to reach over and rest a hand on his arm. 

“Plus, it’s the holidays. Peace and joy and all that good stuff.”

Jughead chuckled lightly at this before moving his arm away. “Yeah, well us being civil with one another will surely be a Christmas miracle.”

Veronica smiled at this. “That’s the spirit, Jones. Now, how about we play an old fashioned game of 20 questions?”

Jughead thought about it silently before taking a long sip of the milkshake Veronica slid over to him, finishing it all off in one go. 

“Fine. But you owe me another milkshake.”

Veronica grimaced, yet an amused smile slipped out. “You are barbaric, Jones.”

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Favorite film?” Jughead asked.

“Hmmm,” the ravin haired girl played with the spoon in her cup of coffee, biting her lip in thought. “Taxi Driver.”

Jughead nearly spat out his shake. “Bullshit. You? Liking Taxi Driver? I can’t even picture you watching it.”

Veronica lightly slapped Jughead in the arm. 

“As a matter of fact, I have. Several times. I’m a fan of character pieces and despite the gruesome mess it ends up being at the end, it’s a movie I enjoy. Very much.”

Jughead chuckled, nodding. “Alright. Alright. I actually think that’s pretty cool. It’s on my list of personal favorites. I’m just surprised you didn’t say ‘Mean girls’ or something basic like I expected you would.”

This earned him a not so playful slap on his shoulder.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————---

“Favorite book?”

“These questions don’t work with me princess. I don’t have a ‘favorite anything,” Jughead admitted.

Veronica rolled her eyes at this. “You’re such a pretentious asshat, you know that, right? Fine. What’s one book you enjoy reading?”

“Hmm...Catcher in The Rye.”

The girl shook her head at this. “Gosh Jones you’re such a cliche.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, raising a brow in amusement. 

“You’re a walking troupe for every indie film character ever. Catcher in The Rye? I bet you read it while smoking a Malboro red.” 

“For your information Lodge, I don’t smoke.”

She quirked a brow at this, unconvinced.

“Not Malboro reds anyways,” he added.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Okay, speed round, same time” Veronica stated, leaning closer to the table. Jughead watched her, a smirk forming.

“Hit me.”

“Okay, favorite food. 1, 2....”

“Burgers.”

“Sushi.”

Veronica shook her head. “Of course you’re a fan of the greasiest meal in America.”

“And you willingly choose to shove raw fish in your mouth. And you say I’m the one with questionable taste,” he retorted, arms crossed. “Favorite song.”

“Don’t fear the Reaper.”

“Don’t have one.”

Jughead’s eyes widened at this. “You don’t have a favorite song?”

“No? There’s like a billion songs and you hear so many during your whole lifetime. Don’t get me wrong, I like many, but I don’t think I can just select one as a favorite. Plus, weren’t you the one who stated that you didn’t have a favorite ‘anything’,” she said right back, a brow raised.

Jughead looks almost stunned for a moment, eyes fully on her, before shaking his head. “Lodge, and I say this with total honesty and with zero intent to insult, but you are unlike anybody I’ve ever met,” he said, a small but genuine smile on his face.

Knowing very well that it was more of an honor to surprise the Jughead Jones than anything else, the girl returned the smile, and if any unknowing passerby were to spot them, they would think they were rather fond of each other. 

For a moment, it felt like they had always been like this. Like they had a bond that rivaled that of a friendship of years. It was magnetic & immediate & individually they wondered why the hell did they waste so much time at each other’s throats. 

They then proceeded to talk about another hang out. Tomorrow they would meet up for coffee back at Pop’s & then head to the theatre to watch an indie film that Jughead was convinced Veronica would enjoy more than Archie. He knew Arch would appreciate a break from being dragged to movies he had no particular interest in anyways. 

Veronica seemed into it, excited almost. She was engaged in their conversations, laughing and smiling. And not one of those famous ‘Veronica Lodge’ smiles, but rather a real one. A rarity to Jughead, but one that he couldnt wait to see again. It was a moment they both were enjoying very much.

The moment however, was disturbed by the ringing of Veronica’s phone. 

“I’m sorry, I gotta take this.”

He wish he knew who called. 

“Hey, how’s everything?”

He wish he wasn’t so deep into his thoughts so that he could've heard what she was saying to the person on the other end. 

“Guess that’s my cue to go. Sorry. We’re still on to meet here tomorrow morning, right?”

He was so wrapped up in this feeling & his thoughts of tomorrow that he didn’t think about offering to walk her home. He would see her tomorrow, it was fine, and she had gone home by herself many times when the four of them would hang out. 

“Yeah, if you don't decide to ditch me that is,” he teased. 

He watched her leave, almost in slow motion, black hair swaying, her typical brand named heels clicking with every step. He watched her at the door, flashing him a smile & giving him a little wave before pushing it open, a soft ding signaling her departure.

He watched her, not knowing that it was the last time he would see Veronica Lodge.

Alive.


	2. Midwinter Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He told himself that figuring out who did it and why would be the only way he could accept what had happened and move on. But, as of right now, in his dingy, small room, with all his dirty clothes on the floor and his sheets thrown off the bed and his desk littered with paper balls and cigarette ashes, he was going to solve the murder of Veronica Lodge, even if it was the last thing he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi wow I'm surprised to see that people actually read this. Thank you so so much for taking the time to check this story out and for the person that left a comment, thank you, I love u, and it means the world. okiii let's get on with the shit show shall we <3

The morning began like any other in Riverdale. 

That is, until shit hit the fan.

Betty had sent a text to Veronica that night, checking in on her to see if everything with Jughead turned out okay and if she was mad at her for ditching. She didn’t think anything of it when she didn’t respond, assuming she had gone straight to bed because the message hadn’t been opened. She went to sleep right after, and woke up to the rapid knocking of her mother the next morning. She groaned loudly and dragged herself to the door, opening it wide with a frown, mouth ready to snap. However, the look on her mom’s face kept the words from coming out. 

She fell down to her knees, her body giving in from the stress of the news, but her expression remained blank. The sound of her own name from her mother next to her sounded distant and far away & there was an awful ringing in her ear. She passed out shortly after and Alice Cooper panicked as she tried to get her daughter to become responsive again. 

Archie was walking Vegas that early morning. He was a making a mental note of everything he had to get done before his mother arrived the next morning. He definitely needed to clean his room, which he was well aware was a huge mess and his mom would not approve. He wanted to do his best to make the visit go as smooth as possible as a part of him still had a bit of hope that his parents would get back together. 

A police car had sped past them just then, sirens blaring & lights flashing. Vegas’ ears perked up and he began to bark, causing Archie to grip the leash tighter. 

“What the hell’s going on,” he commented to himself, his phone vibrating in his pocket as if one cue. 

Kevin Keller.

Picking the phone up with furrowed brows (although they got along, Kevin calling him wasn’t a regular occurrence) he pressed it against his ear, still gripping the leash and trying to calm Vegas down. 

“Shh, calm down boy. Hello? Kev?”

He told him his dad, Sheriff Keller, had been called to the scene, which Archie assumed was the one driving the speeding cop car that had passed by a few seconds ago. 

He said that they had found something. Something alarming. 

“A body, Archie.”

He admitted that he couldn’t confirm who it was yet, but they had every reason to believe that the body they found near Pop’s was someone they knew very well. 

“I’m so sorry.”

Archie dropped his phone to the ground. 

He stood there, frozen, as Vegas continued to bark at the spot where the cop car had passed.

The way Jughead found out was possibly the worst of them all. He was waiting for Veronica at Pop’s, where they had agreed to grab a cup of coffee before heading out to the movies. When 30 minutes passed and he hadn’t heard from her or seen her step in, he assumed she thought the plan through and decided she wasn’t going to go through with it. 

“Guess I was right about you ditching...” he muttered under his breath.

Did he blame her? Not really. People didn’t surprise Jughead very often, and this was something he expected the actual Veronica Lodge he knew to do. The Veronica from last night was just trying to make peace with him for the sake of their two friends. He was sure now that the smile he saw was nothing more than another mask created for the occasion. She had an extensive collection of poker faces & award winning smiles ready at her disposal.

As he stepped out of the diner, hands in his pockets, he was greeted with the teeth chattering winter air, as well as the view of several police cars in front.

The rest felt like he was watching the scene through some kind of lens. One that made you see things like the pages of a book being flipped through rapidly. Everything felt choppy and quick and surreal.

He approached Sheriff Keller who was the one he immediately recognized. He asked what happened. Asked why there was so many of them.

There were so many cars. So many cops. Some were writing things down, other’s talking to a walkie, another even looking distressed with his fingers resting on his temple. There was also an ambulance parked, joining the chorus of lights of the cop cars around it. If he it wasn’t such a hectic scene, Jughead would describe it as chaotically beautiful. It was snowing at the moment, and the red and blue lights lit up the snow beneath them. 

Sheriff Keller looked at Jughead like he was trying to figure out how to answer him. The look he gave him prompting a sick, sinking feeling to hit the pit of Jughead’s stomach. 

He never got to hear what the Sheriff was going to say though, because right at that moment, two paramedics passed right by them with a stretcher. Jughead’s eyes immediately locked on the body he knew was on it, a blanket draped over it to hide their identity. What they had forgotten to do, however, was pay attention to the hair sneaking out of the cover. The dark, raven hair that he knew all too well. 

The dark raven hair that unmistakably belonged to Veronica Lodge.

———————————————————————————————————————————

The news of the death of Veronica Lodge spread throughout the town like wildfire. 

Some were heartbroken; Veronica Lodge was not a Riverdale native, but she grew into becoming a core piece of the town. Everyone knew who she was just like they knew who anybody else was. She walked the halls of Riverdale High, she ate at Pop’s, and she was always present at every big event. 

Some were not surprised; She was a Lodge. She had a metaphorical target pinned to the back of her Chanel dress every time she walked out of the doors of the Pembroke. Something was bound to happen. The Lodge family weren’t saints and they had enemies.

Everyone, however, was suspicious; Who could have done this? Who was capable of killing, not only a teen resident of the town, but the daughter of the infamous Hiram Lodge? And what was their motive?

Jughead spent the first three days after her body had been found with those thoughts consuming his head. Every hour awake was spent obsessing over what the possible answers could be. It also didn’t help that he spent every hour awake.

The bags under his eyes grew darker and heavier with every hour he deprived himself of sleep. He started drinking. Smoking. Anything to keep his eyes from shutting for the tiniest second because every time he would close them, they’d replay that scene over and over again in his head; When Veronica stood at the door of Pop’s, turning to give him a little wave, the door giving that little ding as she walked right out. The memory mocked him. It twisted his gut and kicked him down till he was curled up in a ball, hands pressed against his ears to keep that horrific ringing of the bell out of his head.

He could have stopped her. He could have offered to walk her home. He could have maybe asked a question, one more question in that stupid game of her’s and that could have bought her time. He could’ve done them all. But he didn’t. Not one. And now she was dead.

It hit everyone like a ton of bricks. Betty had refused to come out of her room. She was constantly bundled up in a blanket, staring at the walls, her head, usually swimming around with worries and ideas and questions and thoughts, completely empty. She felt empty.

Archie had snapped in an entirely different way. Hitting his punching bag till his fists were red and his calluses would burst. He ran around the neighborhood, early in the morning, till his knees gave in from the intensity and pressure. He wanted to feel exhausted. He wanted to wear his body down so all he could focus on was the pain of his body screaming at him to stop. It was the only thing that made him forget that she had just died.

Despite it though, Archie made sure to visit Betty, both of them keeping each other company through the ordeal. They had called Jughead. Texted him. But he never responded. He didn’t have time to sit and cry and grieve. No one knew who killed Veronica Lodge. No one could even think of why. He couldn’t sitandcryandgrieve without figuring that out for himself. 

FP was concerned about his son, but he was never the best at talking. What was he going to say to him anyways? ‘Knock it off, you’re gonna kill yourself if you keep acting like this?’ Well, he did, but that didn’t change anything.

Jughead was aware that what he was doing was unhealthy and most likely going to drive him to insanity. But there was no textbook way of how one should react after someone they know unexpectedly dies. At least, not realistically. He told himself that figuring out who did it and why would be the only way he could accept what had happened and move on. But, as of right now, in his dingy, small room, with all his dirty clothes on the floor and his sheets thrown off the bed and his desk littered with paper balls and cigarette ashes, he was going to solve the murder of Veronica Lodge, even if it was the last thing he did.

He hovered over his desk, lit up cigarette in his mouth, shirt missing, and his beanie holding onto the top of his head for dear life. He grabbed the cigarette between his fingers and tapped it lightly, making the ash fall onto his makeshift ash tray of crumpled up papers, brows furrowed as he focused on the screen of his laptop.

He had 3 tabs opened up. Each with 3 different social media sites. All belonging to Veronica Lodge. 

Twitter, instagram, and facebook. He found out by just a few scrolls however, that Veronica hadn’t used her Facebook since a year and a half ago, probably because, in social circles unknown to Jughead, it had grown out of date. Clicking the ‘x’ on that tab, he began to review Veronica’s tweets, focusing mostly on the ones dated from a week to her murder 3 days ago. 

He was reading through them, hoping for a clue of some kind. A tiny red flag. Heck, a red spot even. Somewhere, anywhere within the spaces of her talking about the bachelor or how much she loves the chocolate shakes at Pops or even in her retweet of a cute cat video.

Wait.

Who did she retweet that from?

Were they a Riverdale resident?

His eyes squinted, the light of the laptop burning his tired eyes.

He’s been forgetting to blink. 

Upon research, he labels this one lead as cold as the person does indeed not go to Riverdale. Just another one of those influencer accounts. 

He throws his head back, pinching the cigarette tight between his fingers and placing it back in his mouth. He takes a deep inhale, mentally counting how long he can keep it in, before exhaling slowing, a cloud of smoke releasing from his mouth. He coughs slightly, shaking his head, before a sound causes him to stiffen. He turns around, expecting it to be his dad, but sees no one. Instead, one of his books had fallen from the top of his drawer near the door. If he wasn’t so exhausted and high off the nicotine he would’ve probably wondered how it fell by itself, but he doesn’t give a damn at the moment. When he turns back to his laptop, he see’s it’s been shut. 

He doesn’t remember closing it. He doesn’t even recall hearing it close. 

This one’s a little more weird but he’s probably just delusional from the 72 hours of no sleep so he ignores it and opens his laptop up once more, scrolling through more tweets about movies and gender equality and shoes.

What happens next, however, is something he’s incapable of ignoring.

“I thought you said you didn’t smoke Marlboro Reds, Torombolo.” 

Everything in Jughead went cold at the sentence. 

That voice. He knew that voice. That voice tortured his head constantly for the past 72 hours with the promise of a tomorrow that never came. That voice he last heard walking out of Pop’s 3 nights ago. 

He turned around, slowly this time.

There she was, Veronica Lodge, sitting at the edge of his bed, legs crossed and her trademark smirk gracing her painted red lips. 

“Missed me?”  
———————————————————————————————————————————


	3. The Ghost of Christmas Not Yet To Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not real,” he finally said, staring at the very real looking eyes of the not real Veronica Lodge. 
> 
> The not-real-but-looks-real Veronica raised a brow, her expression giving off her amusement. “I’m not real?”
> 
> “Nope,” and he exaggerates the ‘p’, making it pop uncharacteristically, because in truth, he hasn’t felt like himself in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooop so this was so hard to write. I honestly got so stuck with this one but here we go. Is it weird that I'm terrified of continuing? I have an idea of where I want this to go and what the end result will be but...getting there is a whole other question. Oh well, we'll see. Thank you so so much to those continuing to read and if you're commenting wow I love you. 
> 
> Alright lets get to it !

Jughead Jones never believed in ghosts. Or the supernatural in general. He was a man of science. Logic. Yet, he could not find a logical explanation for how the recently deceased Veronica Lodge sat on his bed, looking as alive as the last moment he saw her.

His mouth opened and closed continuously, trying to manifest the words he couldn’t even think of saying. Whatever effect the nicotine had on him was knocked right out and he was left feeling disturbingly sober. 

“You’re not real,” he finally said, staring at the very real looking eyes of the not real Veronica Lodge. 

The not-real-but-looks-real Veronica raised a brow, her expression giving off her amusement. “I’m not real?”

“Nope,” and he exaggerates the ‘p’, making it pop uncharacteristically, because in truth, he hasn’t felt like himself in days.

There’s nothing but silence between the two as they both stare at one another. Veronica is the first to move, uncrossing her legs as she stands up, head held high. Next thing he knows she’s mere inches from him, and he watches intently as her manicured hand places itself on his cheek. The hairs on his arms stand up and he has to swallow down a gasp. Her hand is cold. So damn cold. But it’s there and he feels it and all of sudden the NotRealVeronica is very much real and very much in his room and very much touching him. 

“The world is full of surprises, isn’t it?” she responds, her eyes still locked on his, her little smirk softening. 

He doesn’t know how to react. How do you react when your dead friend is alive in your room? 

His hand instinctively grabs at her wrist. It’s a little too aggressive, but Veronica doesn’t flinch. Instead, she remains calm and collected, the famous Lodge pokerface in its place. He holds onto her wrist and keeps his gaze on her when he says “I think I need to get some rest.”

Her pokerface falters and she’s smiling softly once more. A soft, sad smile. 

“I think you do.”

Next thing he knows he’s under the sheets in his bed and Veronica is sat on the edge of it again, near his feet. 

“You’re not gonna be here when I wake up, you know. When I close my eyes, you’re gonna be gone. For real this time,” his voice is soft and tired and all Veronica does is stare at him silently.

“You’re gonna be gone and that’s it. I’ll never see you again,” and with that, his eyes close and he’s asleep. 

————————————————————————————————————————

When Jughead wakes up, it’s 3 in the afternoon the next day and the sun seeps through the broken shades in his window. He squints, the light hitting his eyes directly. 

His mouth tastes like cigarettes and he’s thirsty and his head pounds from the inside. He sits up and for a blissful minute he forgets about everything till he see’s the mess on his desk and his laptop still opened up to Veronica’s socials. 

And Veronica Lodge standing over the edge of his bed.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says, jumping slightly once he catches sight of her. 

“Rise and shine Wednesday Addams, we have a long day ahead of us,” she says, smirk back in place. 

He silently stares at her, taking everything in. “You’re still here. You’re still in my room. Are you..?”

“Alive? No,” she admits, cutting him off. “I’m still very much dead. Unfortunately. You can blame the jerk face low life who did this to me. But, I suppose that’s the reason why I’m here.”

Jughead takes the information and thinks it through for a moment. “Why you’re here….you don’t know who did this to you?”

“Trust me when I say that you are the last person I would willingly choose to haunt Forsythe,” she admitted, taking a seat beside him on the bed. 

“Does that…you….you need me to find out who killed you?” he asks, brows furrowed as he tries to put the pieces together.

The raven haired girl rolls her eyes at his.

“Yes Detective Jones, it seems like I require your services from beyond the grave. Please get with the program, I know I’m dead so time being wasted shouldn’t seem like such a big issue to me, but in this case, it does. It’s actually a big part of why I’m here.”

“Why? Is there like a….time limit?”

Jughead was never the type to ask so many questions. He naturally just got this things quickly, or he just quietly figured things out for himself. However, he could not come to a sensical conclusion on his own with this. Probably because this situation shouldn’t be making any sense. 

Veronica looks down at her hands, resting them on her lap. 

“We have till my funeral.”

As dark as the admission was, it made everything click for Jughead Jones. 

Veronica’s body was found on the snowy ground near Pop’s 3 days ago, but her funeral wasn’t to be held until 2 more. The police and her parent’s came to an agreement to study the body for as long as they could in hopes of finding any forensic evidence that could prove who Veronica’s killer was. He understood that once her body was laid to rest, there was a possibility of her case going cold. Or maybe it was something more about her soul being unable to rest if they didn’t figure it out before then. Whatever it was, there was now a time stamp to solving the mystery of her murder.

Jughead’s head continued to pound away as he tried to process what was happening.

List of things that are very real and happening right now to Jughead Jones:

1\. The ghost of Veronica Lodge was in his room.  
2\. She needs him to figure out who murdered her.  
3\. He’s thirsty as shit and needs to drink some water and take a shower because he probably reeks.

Could ghosts smell? He hopes not. If they did, the ghost of Veronica Lodge would have protested a while ago and called him a pig. So, either: 

A. She was just in shock at what is happening as he is and is just better at hiding it.

Or 

B. She can’t in fact smell. 

There was one more thing that he needed to prove. He leaned forward towards Veronica, hand stretching out as he hesitantly touched her shoulder. He flinched, feeling the unnaturally cold skin beneath his.

4\. He can touch and feel her. 

She lifts her head up, eyes on the hand on her shoulder. “You think you’re done processing? I know this isn’t really the easiest to understand, but we are in a rush.”

He moves his hand away and gives a robotic nod. She was right. There was no time to process. The little time they had urgently needed to be spent on figuring out what happened to her. Not only for his sanity, but now for her peace.

Jughead couldn’t save her that night she got killed; it finally hit him now that beating himself up about it wasn’t going to help her out or bring her back. But what he could do is save her by giving her the answers she desperately needed.

And deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh ok I understand that this was short & most likely trash but I promise the next one should be better.


	4. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead could count on one hand the amount of times he heard Veronica Lodge plead for anything. She was never one for begging; she hardly ever had to. But here she was, hands gently holding his own, her eyes revealing the fear and worry she so skillfully concealed, asking him to do this one last thing for her, and he would be damned if he didn’t oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow hi hello, yes I know I'm the worst. I'm sorry, It's just honestly been a struggle with the writers block (this case was the worst seeming as it took me about 3 months to post this) but I will try to be better. Thank u to those of u for the continuous love. I don't deserve it but I'm super grateful. Hope u enjoy <3

“Do you remember what happened after you left Pop’s?”

A newly showered Jughead asked Veronica, his hair still dripping but his beanie back in its place. Veronica sat on the bed as Jughead stood in front of her, pacing every once in a while. 

“All I remember was that Smithers hadn’t arrived yet so I decided to take a little walk in the meantime,” she answered, giving a small shrug.

A lump in his stomach forms at her words. He wants to yell at her, ask her why the hell she decided to walk outside by herself when he realizes that it was stupid to be mad at her. Walking outside does not mean you want to be killed. Walking outside should not get you killed. Everyone should be allowed to walk outside and think it’s safe. He just wish the world made it so it was.

He swallows the feeling down and continues his questioning.

“Do you recall hearing footsteps behind you? Feeling another presence?”

She thinks about it for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, next thing I know it’s just….dark and cold. I wish I could be more help to you, seeming as it is my case, but I’m as good to you dead as I am…well, dead,” she answers truthfully and Jughead can’t help but feel an uncomfortable shudder go through him. He’s never one to be disturbed by morbid and macabre senses of humor, but in this case it’s a little too real. 

“Thats…ok. I guess we’re just gonna have to find our answers somewhere else. “

“What about my body? Are there any reports about it? Was the cause of death released?”

Jughead shakes his head, prompting her to sigh. “No. They didn’t disclose any specific details when they announced it. Sheriff Keller has been suspiciously ‘hush hush’ about it.”

“Sounds more like a request my father would make. He likes our family matters to be dealt with privately. I guess that means even our deaths. Possibly to avoid exploitation. You’d be surprised what enemies will use against you,” she explains, and then they’re back to being silent and it makes Jughead itch.

They were acting so weird with each other. So cold and robotic and tense, as if she was a stranger and not the Veronica Lodge he knew for over a year now. Just only 3 days ago they had an amazing time together and Jughead had gotten to know a side of her he had seemed to overlook. 

Just only 3 days ago she was still alive, he reminds himself, and his itch has become stronger and he’s scratching at what feels like a nonexistent bite on the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to take in. To deal with. Trust me I can’t imagine what you’re going through….” she began, but he quickly cuts her off. 

“What I’m going through?” he restates bitterly. “What I’m going through? Veronica, you’re dead! You’re fucking dead! And now you’re here, in my room, asking me to help figure out your murder and….christ, I thought last year’s shit fest that was Jason Blossom’s murder was fucked up but it doesn’t hold a candle to this. I honestly feel like I’m going insane. I have to be…this just…this doesn’t…..” He’s shaking his head repeatedly and the fear and panic in his eyes is something that the brunette girl catches. 

She’s back up on her feet and standing in front of him, taking both his hands in hers.

“Jughead. Please,” she said, and in her voice he could note the urgency. 

Jughead could count on one hand the amount of times he heard Veronica Lodge plead for anything. She was never one for begging; she hardly ever had to. But here she was, hands gently holding his own, her eyes revealing the fear and worry she so skillfully concealed, asking him to do this one last thing for her, and he would be damned if he didn’t oblige. 

He let out a breath he wasn’t aware of holding and grips her hands. His mind is going a mile a minute but in that process an idea forms in his head and before he know’s it, he’s whispering Betty’s name. 

“Excuse me?” Veronica asked. 

“Betty. She can sneak us into the coroner’s office. There we can see your body and find out for ourselves.”

He immediately reaches for his phone and scrolls to Betty’s name on his contact list.

“What are you going to tell her?” Veronica asks, eyeing him.

He purposefully looks away from her, bringing the phone up to his ear. 

“Anything else,” he responds, and flinches as he hears a weak greeting on the other end.

————————————————-------------------

“Jughead, why....”

“Betty please. Trust me. You won’t believe me even if I told you. I just really need your help with this,” he urges her.

It takes a few moments of processing and a couple of are-you-okay-jugs before she finally gives in and agrees. She tells him that she would pick him up in 10 minutes, those of which he used to lock himself in the bathroom to wash his face with cold water and take another moment to let everything sink in.

He eyes the closed door and thinks of how just behind it was Veronica, the one who’s dead body they were about to investigate. The whole thing gave him ugly shivers and made him want to throw up.

There’s a knock on his front door and he reluctantly exits the bathroom. As suspected, Veronica was right behind it. 

“You sure you can do this?” She asked simply, watching his face for any hints of him cracking. He doesn’t show any.

“I’m sure that I have to. That’s enough,” he states, and she moves to allow him to pass and make his way towards the door.

It was barely a second of the door being opened before Betty had launched herself onto Jughead, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, which immediately began to feel wet.

“Jug, we were so worried,” a sad Betty tearfully let out, chocking back a choir of sobs that were sure to follow if she didn’t. 

Caught off guard, the action causes him to stiffen, his hands remaining awkwardly at his sides.

“We?” he questioned, and as if on cue, none other than Archie Andrews emerged from the door.

“You haven’t answered our texts. Not even a call. We didn’t know what was going on with you, Jughead,” the red head chimes in, and Jughead is taken aback by how exhausted and defeated he looked.

His hair was disheveled, the bags under his eyes deep and dark, and his skin was a sickly pale, causing his bright red hair to contrast drastically against it. 

Archie Andrews, the boy who once looked so full of life, looked so lacking of it now. And, taking a better look at Betty as he pulled away from her embrace, he realizes that she also looked just as ghostly. Just as lost. Just as…not there.

He swallows a hard lump down.

“I’m sorry. I...I didn’t know what to say. I mean…what was I suppose to say? Hey, I’m fine? Well….I’m not. And…and you’re not. And I just didn’t want to....” he can’t force anything else out. 

Talking seemed to take so much effort as of late. Effort he didn’t have the energy for. He feels a hard lump in his throat and he's slightly angry to feel tears well up in his eyes. He shouldn’t be the one crying. He didn’t lost a best friend or an ex girlfriend (or whatever she and Archie were). All he lost was a girl who hungout with his friends. He had no right. 

“It’s ok, Jug. We’re just relieved to see you,” Betty reassures him, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. 

Archie nods and puts a hand on Jughead’s shoulder. “Yeah man, we care for you. And you know we’re always going to be here for you. For each other. Always.”

Jughead watched them, a small, sad smile forming on his face because, for a moment, everything feels normal. His two friends in front of him, Betty caring about his wellbeing, Archie reassuring him of their loyalty. It’s all familiar until he feels a cold air hit the back of his neck that makes him hiss and shiver and reminds him that this was not normal or familiar and they won’t be finishing up the day with a trip to Pop’s.

He doesn't have to look back to know Veronica was standing behind him. For a second he wonders if they can see her (if he can, why can’t they?), but their eyes don’t widen and their mouths don’t drop. There’s no light in their eyes and they make no sound. Just pale, unknowing faces. It is then that he notes that the ghost of Veronica Lodge remained unseen by her best friends Betty Cooper and Archie Andrews, and he feels a heavy weight in his chest understanding now that he is the only one who is able to see her.

“I’m sorry,” he says once again, but this time it’s not directed to his friends.

He means it for the girl behind him who knows that she will never be able to speak to her friends again. To gossip excitedly with Betty and to laugh with Archie. To ever be told that they would be there for her. To be apart of the close group they once were. 

“I’m really sorry.”


End file.
